Chances and Choices
by Esther-Channah
Summary: Cass returns to Gotham and discovers that she is not alone. Set immediately prior to her joining the Outsiders.


Disclaimer: DC owns them. If they were mine, I would've done things differently with Cass OYL.

Thanks to Anowack at scansdaily for the relevant panels from Batgirl #14

Context: Immediately prior to Batgirl joining the Outsiders

Thanks to Debbie for the beta!

**Chances and Choices**

It had been over two years since she had been in this lair. Her 'cave', Batman had called it. At the time, she'd thought it was perfect. There was a large area suitable for training and exercise. There were small alcoves set aside for eating, sleeping, and other necessary activities. Batman brought her here to live after she'd made the mistake of getting into a fight without her mask on. At least, Barbara had considered it a mistake. Cass still remembered how angry the other woman had been.

"_Why? Why would you do that? You just threw your identity away."_

She hadn't understood.

"Your future identity. What if you want to go to school? Drive a car? Get a job? You're never going to be able to be anything besides… Batgirl.

She still hadn't understood. _"So?"_

A day later, Batman drove her here and told her that this was her new home. It was too dangerous for her to live with Barbara now. Cass hadn't cared. She'd thought that Batgirl was all she'd ever need—or want to be. She'd been a fool. And now, she thought, as she gently ran a finger over the rough brown brick wall, she couldn't be Batgirl. And she _wouldn't_ go back to Slade, nor to the League of Assassins. So. What else was left for her?

Cass detected his presence a moment before he spoke, but she didn't let on.

"I wondered if you'd come back here."

She didn't turn around. "You were watching for me."

"Yes."

She took a few steps forward, into the exercise area. The padding on the floor gave slightly under her sneakers. "Why?" She began a basic warm-up routine, letting her body flow effortlessly from one position to the next.

He waited until she turned to face him. "Why?" She repeated.

He pushed back the cowl. The intensity of his eyes had not dimmed in the last eighteen months, but something about his stance seemed more relaxed. He was still alert, but less wary. "I owe you an apology," he said quietly.

Of all the moves he could have made, she hadn't expected that one. Then she suspected that he had made that statement deliberately, in order to catch her off-guard. She plunged into a pattern dance that was one part shadowboxing, one part gymnastics, and one part calisthenics. "For what?" She demanded as her palms hit the mat and her legs scissored upwards. "You blame yourself for what I did after I left? Don't." She flipped back to her feet and immediately began a series of jabs and punches at an imaginary opponent. It was wearing a cowl with pointed ears. "I did it. I let Slade trap me. I led the League. I made Robin free Cain. Me. Not you. Me. My weakness. My… stupidity." She dropped to a crouch, bowed her head and let her arms go limp. "My… responsibility. Mine."

Batman regarded her solemnly for a moment. Then, without a word, he walked over to the DVD player and slid in a disc. The machine began to play it immediately, even before he powered on the television.

Cass was about to ask what he was doing when her heart began to pound. She recognized the scene, and the man, and the little girl in the pink dress… and what was about to happen. Rage seized her, forcing hot tears to her eyes.

"You knew?" She asked. "All that time, all those months, you… knew." Anger boiled within her and spilled over into her words. "And you still let me stay even though you don't kill. You don't work with people who kill. Why me? Why, if you knew?"

Batman turned off the TV. "I don't work with murderers," he agreed. "I _have_ worked with people who've taken life in the past." He shook his head. "That's why I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have let you carry that guilt." He closed his eyes for a moment. "It isn't the first time I've made that mistake." His eyes opened and locked with hers. "You were a child. You did not know what you were doing, and once you did, you stopped."

"And Slade?" She asked. "Even if he drugged me, I wasn't a… a zombie." She turned away. "It's a good excuse. But I know the truth. I was tired. I hurt. I…" she swallowed. "I killed Shiva. I left her hanging over a Lazarus pit so I knew she would be back, but I still killed her." She felt a hand grip her shoulder but she shook it off. "I couldn't wear the costume after that. So I left it in the mountains. I came back here and Bludhaven was gone. I watched news," she grimaced. She knew how to speak properly now. "I watched _the_ news on TV. Superboy died. I knew him. I liked him. And he died while I was… looking for my mother." She turned to face him. "Shiva. Did you know?"

He didn't reply for a moment. "It doesn't surprise me," he said finally, "but no. I didn't."

She nodded slightly. "If I hadn't been away, I could have helped. I could have maybe stopped it. Saved him."

"Maybe," Batman agreed. "Or we could have lost you as well."

Her smile was bitter. "Didn't you?"

"Permanently."

"Didn't you?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "One question. When you were working with the League, or with Deathstroke… did you enjoy it?"

She blinked.

"Did you enjoy it?" He repeated. "Or did you need Slade's needles in order to live with—"

"What else did I have?" She demanded. "When I came back to Gotham, you were all gone. I didn't know where. Two-Face… I mean, Dent, was protecting the city. Bludhaven was… was dead. Oracle… I thought would find me, contact me. She never did." She spun around, then whirled back. "All I ever was, all I ever had that had meaning came from the costume and from what it stood for. And I disgraced it and there was _nothing_. And I came back here now to try to find who I was then and there is _still_ nothing. And you come to say 'sorry', but that word is _NOTHING_!" It came out louder than she'd expected. She took a deep breath, then exhaled. "So, Batman," she said softly, "what can you say to me that can mean _something_?"

She waited. He didn't speak. Something about his gaze held her where she stood, powerless to turn away. They faced each other as the moments ticked by. Finally, Batman drew a deep breath.

"Detective Sergeant Bullock," he began, "was implicated in the murder of Jordan Rich. He became a private detective and later proved instrumental in toppling a corrupt police regime. Today, he's back on the force and slowly building back a solid reputation. Despite her past, Slade's daughter is currently a member of the Teen Titans." He took a step closer. "The past doesn't go away. But it does not have to dictate your future. It's your decision."

He replaced the cowl, turned as if to go, and then paused. "I'm assembling a covert operations team," he added. "Some of its members are from Nightwing's Outsiders. Others are new. The work isn't exactly what you've done before, and it presents its own set of challenges, but I think Batgirl would be a good fit." He turned back to her, his eyes sliding past her stunned expression. "Think it over. And if you decide to join, we're currently based…"

She barely heard his directions. "Batgirl?" She repeated. "You want me to be…"

"Everyone deserves another chance, Cassandra. It's your call." His cape swirled and he was gone.

Her eyes followed his retreating form. He'd given her a lot to think about. Hesitantly, she walked over to the sleeping area and pulled open one of the drawers in the small bureau. She'd need something to change into after she showered. A yellow bat-symbol gleamed up at her. The costume hadn't been here a year ago.

Slowly, she felt a smile spread across her face. She hadn't been sure about Batman's words. Words, after all, were often meaningless. The costume, however, was something. Something tangible. Something real. Something… that made her think that she was probably going to visit a certain headquarters tomorrow night.


End file.
